"Andre Norton - Dark Companion" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

had not been there for years.

It was set on the borders of the lava country, a treacherous strip of territory that, in remote times, must
have lighted most of this continent with titanic eruptions. Even the eroded evidence of these volcanoes
was still spectacular. Of late years it was an unknown wilderness of breaks and flows, a maze of
knife-sharp ridges with here and there pockets of vegetation. Rumor had it that, beside the forbidding
aspect of the land itself, there were other dangers—from beasts that had escaped the experimental
stations and found this forsaken range an ideal lair. No one actually had evidence of such. It was rumor
only. But it had grown into tradition, and a man wore a stunner when he ventured in.

We left the road at a turn trace so dim by now that I could not have found it without Lugard's direction.
But he gave that with the surety of one seeing markers plain in the sun. And very shortly we were out of
the settled land. I wanted to talk, but I did not quite dare to ask my questions. Lugard was so plainly
occupied with his thoughts.

He would find other changes on Beltane, less tangible than those of the abandonment of old landmarks
but nonetheless sharp. The settlements had been drained of certain types of men: first the guard, and then
scientists and techneers. Those left had unconsciously, perhaps consciously in some ways, changed the
atmosphere. The war had not come close enough to make any great impression on our planet. It
remained a subject of reports, of attrition of supplies and manpower, of growing irritation as men, buried
in their own chosen fields of research, had been commanded to explore other paths for refinements in
killing. I had heard enough to know that there had been a deliberate dragging of feet in sections that had
been set to war problems. And there had been angry outbursts five years back, threats passed between
the last commander and such men as Dr. Corson. Then the commander had been ordered off-world, and
Beltane settled down to a peaceful existence.

The sentiment now on Beltane was pacifist—so much so that I wondered whether Lugard would find an
accepted place among these men bent so strongly on keeping matters as they were and had been. He
had been born on Beltane—that was true. But, like my father, he was of a Service family, and he had
never married into one of the settlement clans. He spoke of Butte Hole as his. Was that literally true? Or
did it mean that he was sent here to make ready for another garrison? That would not be welcome.

Our trail was so badly overgrown that I reluctantly took to the air, skimming not far above the top of the
brush. If Lugard was the forerunner of a garrison, I hoped they would number among them some
techneer-mechanics with training in the repair of vehicles. Already our machines had become so
unpredictable that some of the settlements talked of turning to beasts of burden.

"Take her farther up!" ordered Lugard.
 I shook my head. "No. If she parts at this height, we have a chance of getting out in one piece. I won't
chance more."

He glanced first at me and then at the hopper, as if he really saw it for the first time. His eyes narrowed.

"This is a wreck—"

"It is about the best you can find nowadays," I replied promptly. "Machines don't repair themselves. The
techneer-robos are all on duty at the labs. We have had no off-world supplies since Commander
Tasmond lifted with the last of the garrison. Most of these hoppers are just pasted together, with hope
the main ingredient of that paste."